I Don't Belong (To Anyone)
by melancholylily
Summary: Going from the life of simple pastor's son in the 1600s to a rich patron of the arts in the turn of the 18th century (surrounded by the equivalent of vampire royalty) must have been quite a change for a young, haunted Carlisle. A series of vignettes around that concept, with heavy hints of Aro/Carlisle.


Amid the shocked silence, Aro let out a giggle. The high sound cut through the tension but could never dream to pierce it.

The blond man didn't laugh, of course, and neither did the rest of the humans or vampires tightly packed in the room. Caius was still atop him, arms outstretched at over the lean man at an awkward angle. As Caius got off of him, standing up, he wiped his own venom from his pale lips, which were noticeably free of dark crimson blood. It was him who spoke first, who broke the silence. "_I didn't expect to meet one of our brethren here_," he said clearly, confirming the suspicions of all the immortals in the room.

As if awoken by the sounds, one human woman let out a scream, and the rest began to chatter. A wave of shivers convulsed through the vampire, as if his body was attempting to rid itself of the foreign poison, or simply the fear undoubtedly coiled in his chest.

Not taking his eyes off the scene, Aro gave a casual wave of his marble white hand to one of his guard. Jessica, a shockingly tall, dark-haired vampire, silenced the humans in the room with a nod of her head, in what Aro considered the most worthy use of her abilities to date.

He slowly descended the steps of his throne. He waited to eat till he was alone in his chambers, a quirk, one might say. Caius had wondered if it was a fear of being poisoned, but Aro found the thought foolish. Truly, it was simply… Not amusing, a wrong choice of words, but a pleasure, to watch his court feast.

The vampires in the room quickly parted from his way. Most humans fled, scuttling like mice before a hawk, which they were, in the opinion of most, but some stayed out of stubbornness or shock and had to be dragged from his path. The man still was on the ground, on his hands and knees, head bowed. His shockingly bright hair, like corn silk, badly cropped in a particularly unattractive fashion, fell down and obscured any of his face.

Aro kneeled in front of him, black robes pooling around him. He heard a few gasps from his more devoted, outspoken subjects. He raised a finger, tucking it under the chin of the man and ignoring the faint tremble of it, lifting his head.

Oh, what a change! The man was beautiful, almost angelically so. It was a sad fact he was marred from the mud of the common populace, but that was a temporary concern. The soft curves of his face seemed to have painted like cherubim in the frescos. His eyes were what struck Aro the most. From his experience in the others minds, he suspected Caius or Marcus might have described them as deceptive, but that was as wrong as could be. The mans eyes seemed a perfect window to his soul, filled with a fear that the dark haired man couldn't help but find himself upset by. His fellow Volturi would be right in claiming them as deceitful, though, for those eyes were not the bright red that matched their chosen meal, or a starving blackness. Hark, the beautiful color they contained! Like pools of fresh honey, or pure gold, or sunshine— All things bright and good.

Aro wondered if he was blessed with a gift as well, the gift to enchant others. Should he nudge through the mind of this foreign stranger? His thoughts were flying, kept poking at the edge of Aro's consciousness, begging to be examined. Oh, no, he thought, a grin slipping naturally onto his face, the story told would be much more fun. And if he lied- Well. Consequences would come to him.

He cradled the man's face in his hands, ignoring the slight feeling of grit and grime, the scent of the streets that would have been strong even for a human. He stood, and the boy came with him, stumbling to his feet, crouching slightly in his grip.

"_Greetings, child! This is so_," he paused as if finding his words, removing his hand from the blond's face, "_unexpected a meeting place. We must hear of you! Caius, Marcus, I hope you have had your fill?_"

Caius gave a curt nod. Marcus, a dignified shrug.

"_Excellent_," Aro crooned. "_Let's retire to the withdrawing chamber, friends._"

The two moved out quickly, not even attempting to mask their speed to one of a mortals. Aro left swiftly, though not nearly as so, calling out for the feasting to recommence as he left. The mysterious vampire trailed behind, even more than what the most haughtiest of aristocrats would consider a proper distance.

The large oak doors of the drawing room had already been opened by his guard, which flanked it on each side like pillars. The room was much more well-lit, and the it shone brightly out of the doorway, casting odd shadows from where the guards stood. The room was spacious, luxurious, and filled with the most comfortable of things purchasable. Three grand chaise longues, equally spaced apart, occupied the center of the room, a variety of velvet pillows decorating them, it all resting upon a silk rug imported from the East. Of course, the rest of the floor was fine marble: One must show off to their guests, and the stone minimized the risk of the large fireplace setting the whole room ablaze.

Caius stood near the fireplace, shadows highlighting his face in the most charmingly demonic way, while Marcus sat on the couch closest to him, absentmindedly twirling his hair around a thin finger. As Aro entered the room, the boy following, both sets of red eyes flicked up, even if Marcus' set were particularly more lazy.

Aro set himself down gracefully beside the two, tugging his waistcoat down after the fact. He thought he might have to get it put out an inch farther, but that was not yet an indignity he was ready to comply to. The boy stood off to the side, but moved into the center of the ring of seats with a hurrying gesture of Aro's. His hands were clasped behind his back in a classic show of- Well, it could be a servant's deference or young lord's carefully polite baring in an unfamiliar place. But his dirty, ragged clothes certain fit the former.

"_Oh, sit, sit!_" He demanded.

The boy then spoke for the first time, his voice melodious, Italian halting and coated in a thick accent Aro couldn't quite place.

"_I... don't want… to dirty your chairs, sir_."

Aro let out a chuckle, but Caius scoffed. "_He is right, you know. And it's not as if he needs to,_" the white-haired younger remarked.

Aro shook his head. "_What do we hire servants for? To lie around? For a late snack? To clean, Caius! So... sit, and speak, boy!_"

The boy did as he was bid, sitting himself down on the edge of the soft surface. He had surprisingly good posture, Aro noticed, and his hands he immediately clasped in his lap. After a moment of quiet, the only sound the cracking of flame, the boy opened his mouth.

"_I'm sorry, I don't know-_"

"_Your eyes, you dolt,_" Caius hissed. "_How did you change them?_"

"_Don't be so rude,_" Aro chastised. It was interesting that a foreign vampire had ended up in Volterra- The Volturi were made aware of all new vampires created in Volterra, however, they were also informed of those who entered the city. Usually they would even personally greet any important newcomers, vampire or not. But, anyway, the fact one could slip past their notice was quite impressive. How had the lures not noticed deaths among their gathered prey? "_W__e simply want to know where you came from, how did you come to be here, and why. And yes, I'll admit, I'd too like an explanation of your eyes._"

He laughed once more, and added, "_Your name would be nice as well._"

The boy's head dipped down, eyes trailing to the ground. "_My name is Carlisle. I- I-_" He gave a heavy sigh, obviously frustrated. "_From England,_" he said finally.

"An Englishman," Aro cried out in the foreign language. "That's the accent! I couldn't quite place it. Oh, tell me, is this an easier tongue for you to speak in?"

The boy's yellow eyes had widened to a near comical effect. He quickly calmed, stuttering out, "_Sì-_ Yes, please."

"I didn't mean to cause any trouble," he said, tone sincerely apologetic. _Definitely_ not an aristocrat, Aro decided. "Yes, I'm from England- I was born in London, and- And died there as well."

"You see, I met a vampire awhile back- Lewis, I believe, was his name? He talked of a city of inhabited with a coven of vampires, one of the largest, one of the oldest," he continued, eyes glittering with the sort of idealistic hope one can only see in the young. "I managed to save up enough coin to board a ship to Italy, and imagine my surprise when I found a woman gathering a group to go to the town of Volterra."

He paused, and his golden eyes drifted sturdily up to Aro's, holding an emotion that, to his own surprise, he could only guess was disappointment. "They claimed the city was free of plague and as fertile as Eden. That isn't exactly the truth, is it?"

"We must get our prey somehow, _mio caro_," Aro sighed dramatically. "But how did you hide those you fed on while traveling? And those eyes…"

"Tell me, do you have a gift? Perhaps enchanting the minds of others?" Marcus spoke for the first time in the conversation, voice low and even.

Carlisle's eyebrows furrowed, squinting. "Gift?"

"Why, the boy's as innocent as a child!" Aro laughed, and Caius let out a quiet scoff. "Now, using a gift without knowledge: That's a first even for I!"

The blond's venom raised in a dark blush on his face. Aro considered it a most complimentary coloring.

"I- No! I mean- You see, the answer is one in the same. I… don't drink from humans, you see." Marcus raised a dark eyebrow, and Aro's hands itched to rest on the pale expanse of the boy's skin, that is to say, search his mind. "My eyes were as red as yours when I was first created, but I never took a human's blood. Never killed. Slowly, they changed to this. I ate from the rats on board the ship."

It was far too incredulous. Obviously a lie. Yet this Carlisle seemed to radiate a most earnest nervousness, like a schoolboy reciting his answers to his tutor. Aro didn't need mind reading see Caius didn't believe him, but Marcus looked somewhat convinced.

"Aro, would you please-" The words didn't even finish leaving Marcus' lips before his hand was grasped tightly around the boy's wrist. He flinched, eyes wide with a look more associated with the hunted than the hunter, but Aro was already enveloped in-

(_the man's fragile skin gripped around his hand, dangerous muscle coiled underneath predator prey predator prey had this been all a mistake? more out of depths than ever before, _The Devil Can Be Beautiful _his father had said but he had been blind he was still blind even if he saw more than ever before-)_

No, deeper.

(_damned damned damned fear hope? the light filtering through the above grates in the deck like the flames that flickered in his father's church. furry squirming bodies against his lips UNSATISFYING but it was better better better than the alternative THEY'RE LIKE FISH IN A BARREL no no NO he would NOT and the days turned and turned and turned and then Italy was warm and bright and far better than the cold and damp and blame of England but he was DAMNED here too, wasn't he-)_

His thoughts, tangled and clear as they were, and how captivating. Aro quickly pulled out, as he would've spent days within his mind if given the chance. He gave a light, sharp intake, the action instinctual even if entirely unnecessary.

"Our friend here seems to be telling the truth, gentlemen."

**A/N: Well, I don't know exactly where this came from. I guess my thirteen year old self possessed me? I have a few little vaguely-linear chapters in mind for this piece, but I'd love to hear what you think so far! It may take me awhile to update but I swear I will. After all, abandoning a fanfic is practically a war crime, in my humble opinion. ;)**


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